Journey to War
by Zephyr IV
Summary: James Strievfter a young 19 year old joins the war against terror after losing his beloved foster father in a terrorist attack. He signs up for the marines to take action and prevent anymore terrorism to be inflicted onto others. Follow him on his journey to be a war worthy marine.
1. Gunning for the Marines

**July 19, 2018. **

**New York, United States of America.**

I was signing up for the Marine Corps. Not a big surprise for my kind of people—orphans. We all have the most basic education, lack of savings in their banks if they had an account, and the non-existence of family members.

My parents abandoned me when I was born and left me beside a street.

A pizza guy on a bike found and adopted me. His name was Mike. Although he was only 22 at the time he found me, he did well in taking care of me. Now, he's dead.

Last year, some terrorist attacked a shuttle bus. Of course, the NYPD called in the SWAT. But by then it was too late. The bastards opened fire and fled. Mike tried to help the wounded in the bus when it blew up. 9 people survived. 26 others didn't, Mike was one of them.

Police found evidence of an IED underneath the bus. The terrorist wounding the people in the bus was just to draw more people into the blast zone. Using people sympathy to their advantage.

Anyway a month ago i got tired of waiting. I remember the grief I felt when I heard of Mike's death and I wanted that kind of incidents to never happen again.

So here I am, in the recruiting centre. I held out my identification to the woman manning the desk.

"You 19? You look 16. This isn't fake ID right?"

"I get that a lot. Now am I going off to the war or am I stuck here?" I replied with a fake smile.

Forgot to tell you, by war, it's like Afghanistan in the late 2000s again. When the US and other countries pulled out in 2013, it was quite OK. Then the terrorist got more bold. They took to the streets and the Afghan's military forces couldn't control them.

Some Al-Qaeda moved there since it was practically a haven. But the UN security council didn't know that until too late. The escalating terrorist attacks made the mission for the law enforcement agencies to keep the US safe next to impossible.

So, the president decided to nullify the threat overseas. Nip it at the bud as they say.

The woman chuckled,"Be careful out there". She stamped something on the form I filled out earlier and put it in a file.

"Tomorrow 8.30 am. Don't be late or you'll miss the last ride to Texas"

"Texas?"

"New training facility"

I gathered up my stuff and headed out.

* * *

I packed my belongings into a duffel bag. Those I wanted to bring with me anyway. A few change of clothes and a toothbrush. I'm sure I'm issued those things, but I didnt know what to bring so I just brought them along.

I took a look at the small apartment. This would probably be the last time I'll see it in a long time. All it had is 2 undersized bedrooms, a small kitchen, a bathroom and a living room with a crappy TV.

I brushed a picture of me and Mike smilling together a few years back. On an impulse I took the photo out of its frame and put it in my pocket.

I took one last glance at the apartment. The couch was draped with a large trenchcoat and a blanket, table had a few cups on it although I was the only one living in it.

Shrugging, I locked the door and closed it behind me. And walked briskly out of the flat.

The doorman, an old friendly chap who was one of the few who knew i was going to be a marine bade me fair well and told me to be careful. I nodded and said goodbye. I wouldn't know what to say anyway.

Something rose up in my throat as I realized I might never come back to this place again. I fought back the tears and took the bus.

A quick glance at my watch told me I had over 45 minutes left. So I bought a rather expensive coffee after i got off at my stop. Never know when I might get it again.

I was about to leave the shop when someone knocked into me. Spilling some of my coffee. Luckily it didn't get me.

I frowned and looked up. The one who bumped me was a girl my age. She's cute and looks familiar.

"Oh my god. I'm so sorry" she exclaimed. Her eyes had a flicker of recognition, "James? Is that you? Wow. It's been a while"

Her identity hit me like a sledgehammer. Jenny something, my high school crush.

The bus would go in 30 minutes and Jenny's standing in front of me. Talking to me in a totally innapproriate time when she should have done so in high school.

I didn't know how to react. So I just settled for the typical "Hi, long time no see".

"So what's up? I got back into town, college break"

I opened my mouth and closed it. It wouldn't look good to be telling her how I wasted a couple years of my life doing nothing but play video games and such.

"Well, I signed up for the marines" I offered her a wan smile.

She was pretty shocked. So I guess she thought that this might be the lasts time she sees me. Might be though.

We sat on a bench on the sidewalk and talked. Time just seemed to pass faster. And part of me wished I didn't need to get on that bus.

Time flew. In no time, I totally forgot about the marines.

I felt awkward after Jenny asked me a rather personal question and just instinctively looked at my watch.

My heart leaped as I saw the time- 8.24. With less than 5 minutes left to catch a bus a few blocks away.

I apologized and told her about the bus. But before I left, she kissed me. I was so shocked I never registered it until she pulled away blushing.

I held back a grin,"Now what was that for?"

"Luck. Come back alive and you'll have more," she said with a smirk.

I looked at her one last time and sprinted to the station.

Subtracting my last exchange of words, I only had about 3 minutes left and about 5 blocks to cover.

I ran as fast as I could while trying to get around people. New York is always crowded.

Half a block away, I saw the bus. It must have gone off early and was headed my way.

I knew what I was about to do was crazy and dangerous, but it would be the only way to catch the bus. It was moving fast, fast as in not-stuck-in-traffic type. But there's no way for me to get through 3 lanes of traffic and get on it on time.

I backed up against the shop and waited for the bus.

When it was almost directly opposite me, I sprinted for all I was worth. I jumped on the fire hydrant and leaped across a lane.

I landed on a car softly and jumped on another.

The bus was already a car ahead of me. So I gathered up my legs and leaped.

For a terrifying moment, I thought I wasn't going to get on the bus. Time slowed down, I was in mid-jump. And then I crashed onto the side of the bus, holding onto the window with my both hands. I struggled for a moment before jumping sideways into the open bus door.

The driver- a man in his fifties exclaimed profanities.

The other recruits in the bus were pretty awed at the stunt I pulled. Some missed my performance while napping were roused awake by the endless stream of profanity.

"Yeah I'm sorry about that, was late. This is the marines right?" I said sheepishly.

The man gestured me to come foward and I did so.

Out of nowhere, his hand slapped the back of my head. I saw stars for a full ten seconds and my ears rang. It's a wonder I didn't collapse.

"Now get the hell away and sit down. Don't make me stuff you in a straightjacket. You could have gotten the whole damn bus killed"

The bus was half-filled so I guessed that it held about a dozen and a half recruits like me.

I took a seat by the window. No one was on my row. I was used to it. In fact sometimes I prefer being solitary.

The air-conditioning wasn't working and in the mid summer heat, I was baking. I took off my jacket and rested my head on the window and started to think which is what most people called daydreaming.


	2. Second Thoughts

**July 20, 2018. Texas. United States of America. **

Texas, land of the cowboys. Not as glamorous as you think. No old school western bars where so called macho men with straw hats and boots hung out as you would think.

The most notable feature of Texas, is the heat. The summer heat topped up with worsening global warming is starting to be unbearable.

"Man, it's really hot out here" said a guy around my age. His name was Dave Webb or Webber, I'm not sure although he introduced himself personally to me an hour ago.

Another guy scoffed, " You think this is hot? Try staying in Mexico for a week"

I was really sweating buckets now. I wondered why the marine corps wanted the training camp in such extreme temperature areas.

A former cop around his early twenties said, "Quit whining. It's supposed to toughen us up. Battlefield ain't gonna be no air-conditioned room"

"Double negative equals positive. So the battlefield is going to be an air conditioned room," Webb pointed out with emphasis on _it_.

The cop grunted and flipped him the finger.

It was back to the boring silence and I broke the ice, "How long do you think would it take for us to complete training?"

A female recruit in front of me said, " Minimum 13 weeks. Then you'll go to your MOS training which depends on which course you take"

I didn't want to look like an idiot and start asking too many stupid questions. As they say, _'there are no stupid questions, just stupid people'_.

"I'm going for sniper training," Webb told me, "What about you?"

I've played enough video games to connect the dots between MOS and sniper training. So roughly, I guess MOS was the speciality training.

I shrugged and said, "I dunno, depends I guess. I've never really fired a gun"

I remember only now that Mike brought me out to a gun club once in a while when I was sixteen. But then it stopped because we had a little financial crisis which forced us to lower our monthly enjoyment budget.

The driver, a retired marine named Max hollered over,"We're reaching in 10. Use your remaining freedom wisely because you're going to lose it"

I did a quick headcount when I got onto the bus, but what really surprised me that there were more femal recruits than I originally thought.

There're 21 recruits including me. 5 of them are female. Which is a big ratio compared to what I've heard. So apparently the whole guy-dominance in the military was pretty much false.

The bus abruptly stopped and the doors opened. This really buff black man stormed onto the bus and screamed. I couldn't hear what he was saying but it was clear, 'get out of the bus'

The black man wore one of those funny tall hats the drill sergeants wore. And outside the bus, a dozen of them stood out at attention in front of even more recruits.

There were about a hundred plus recruits there sweating under the sun in a square formation.

The black sergeant was joined by another sergeant who looked part cowboy and both of them herded us into formation like sheepdogs. Very aggresive sheepdogs.

They wielded batons and weren't afraid to use them. Anybody not moving fast enough would get hit in and screamed at in the ear.

I was so busy watching the 'cowboy' sergeant terrorize a young recruit that I didn't see the black sergeant come. He hit me across the shoulder blades from behind. The force of the baton was staggering and I crumpled to the floor.

The black sergeant picked me up by the scruff of the neck and briefly, I saw his name tag. It read 'Sgt. Thorpe'. He hauled me up onto my feet to scream into my ear. I didn't know what I did wrong until I looked at my row. I was half a foot away out of the row and i didn't notice.

Imagine a dozen stereos combined at full volume with headphones on your ears. That was what it felt like when Thorpe yelled at me.

Instinctively I cringed and covered my ears. Thorpe slapped me in the back of the head which made the slap the bus driver gave me seem like a tissue hitting me powered by wind.

I staggered back into formation and stood straight though admittedly I was dizzy as hell.

Thorpe finally moved on. And the marine behind me gave me a sympathetic look. By that time, another bus from probably another state arrived. Thorpe and the sergeant who 'welcomed' my batch waited for the bus to stop before charging in. Some of the poor recruits who didn't wake it time were mercilessly beaten up and unceremoniously kicked out of the bus.

I couldn't bear to look at the poor recruits. Then I notice there were a gap between my batch and those who were already present. There was also a gap between the group beside me and those further away.

The recruits furthest away seemed to be here the longest. My clothes were already filled with sweat and theirs were thoroughly drenched wet.

After what seemed like an eternity, all the recruits arrived. From what I could see, there were 6 groups.

A major in his mid-thirties stepped up on a podium to begin his speech. "I am Major Fullerman and this is Camp Savannah. These are your sergeants who will make you better, faster, strongerand smarter into troops worthy of the Marine Corps ," he gestured to the sergeants, "And this is Medical Officer Chang and his assistant, Thomas Klin. They will be responsible for your health and you most likely be seeing them often," he pointed to two dudes in white coats.

Medical Officer Chang was a slightly plump Asian man in his mid-twenties. He unlike the rest of the staff even waved at us, smiling jovially which I found slightly creepy. His assistant Kiln was a pale guy who looked like he was just barely out of his teens.

Then, Major Fullerman continued in his motivational speech and all the good stuff about the camp's latest high-tech stuff equipment followed by our organization.

There were roughly 230 plus recruits and we're split into 6 companies. Alpha, Bravo, Charlie, Delta, Echo and Foxtrot. I'm in Delta Company's 2nd squad.

Each company has about 36 recruits, a squad would be made out of 12 recruits and a fireteam is made out of 4 recruits.

Though the math didn't add up. Our company has 33 recruits, not enough for each squad to have 12. But it was cleared out after the major explained that there were some lieutenants-in-training who's going to be our squad leader.

Basically, there are 6 companies. Each company has 3 squads. Each squad 3 fireteams which would be chosen by our squad leader.

At the end of the speech, Fullerman told us which drill sergeants were assigned to us. Sergeant Thorpe, the super buff black man and Sergeant Noel, the guy who looked like someone from the wild west. There were also two female drill sergeants who looked like they could kill someone in a heartbeat with nothing but a rubberband. Scratch the rubberband part, they look like they could kill with their bare hands.

They both gave us a tour of the camp after we ate a staple meal of rice, some chicken and assorted veggies at the parade field.

The toilets and showers which are still clean because we're the first to come and use it, the mess hall, the armory, the shooting range, the easily customizable obstacle course and last but not least, our barracks.

There are 7 barracks. 6 of them were for men and another for the women. We-men- were assigned to the barracks according to our company whereas all the women from the all of the 6 companies were assigned to the 7th barracks regardless of their company.

Thorpe opened the door for us and we slowly trooped inside. As I walked pass Thorpe, I can't help but to take the furthest amount of space possible from him.

From the outise, the barracks was a low semi-circle building. It also had a low ceiling. Inside, there were bunks lining the sides of the wall. On top of each bunk was, well another bunk. At the foot of each bunk was quite a large footlocker which resembled a treasure chest, minus the fancy gold or brass trimmings.

Noel gestured to all of us to circle around him and Thorpe.

"As the good major told you, you are going to be trained by us. We're going to break you, squeeze out every ounce of fear you have and turn you into a war ready marine. Any questions?" Noel said.

Webb raised a hand, "What's our daily schedule?"

"Get ready, then physical training, clean up, lunch, shooting range, physical training, some shit or another you have to learn, dinner, clean up, free time and sleep. Any more questions?"

"You also have your Sundays off. But you still have to do half your training which means minus morning PT and variable classes," Thorpe added.

A guy in the back asked, "What variable classes do variable classes include?"

Thorpe moved to the guy who said that. Instinctively, everyone parted to get out of harms way.

"What's your name son?"

"Littman. Robert Littman," the guy said.

Thorpe swung a right hook at Littman. Incredibly, he ducked and dodged it. Before he could exclaim, Thorpe twisted his swinging arm to elbow to the back of the Littman's head.

"Do not talk to me before I give you permission. Sergeant Noel asked you, but I didn't," he screamed into Littman's ear. Littman mumbled something in reply and Thorpe demanded to hear it.

"OK! Fine, I asked Noel then," Littman shouted back. He received a knee to the stomach and bent double in pain.

"First of all, do not try to be a smart ass and wise talk me," Thorpe sent a uppercut to him knocking him backward a few feet. "Second, it's not Noel. It's Sergeant Noel!" Thoroe actually screamed the last few words before kicking Littman in the balls.

All of us excluding the sergeants and poor Littman cringed. Littman however was on the floor howling and clutching his family jewels.

"Any questions?" Thorpe said with a fake smile. No one made a sound.

"OK. Sleeping arrangements are up to you. That's part of the intelligence training," Noel said. Which was pretty much a well covered insult at our intelligence once you think about it.

I took a bunk on the lower level partly because I wasn't very comfortable to heights.

Webb approached me, "Uhh, can I take this bunk? All of the bottom ones are taken,"

When he saw my are-you-kidding-me-expression, he added "I don't like heights,"

I told him I didn't as well but he was insistent. So I just let him have it. I took the bunk on top which surprisingly wasn't that high up. At least I won't have to worry about hitting my head on the bottom of the top bunk now.

The doors of the barracks were flung opened and I held back a sigh. Barely 5 minutes ago the sergeants left. Now they were back. They brought bags with them.

Noel said, "We're keeping your stuff. Everything you brought from home including pictures ," he and Thorpe started handing out bags. "Though spectacles and allergy medcine are yours to keep," he added.

Begrudgingly and reluctantly, we put our stuff into the bags and handed them to the two sergeants. I bet no one dared to sneak anything away after we saw what happened to Littman.

"Lights our in 20, don't make us punish you all," Thorpe said.

"Goodnight men," Noel said. We turned around, heading back to our bunks.

"I said goodnight," Noel repeated much louder.

Knowing what we had to do, we turned around and said, "Goodnight sir," This time we waited for them to leave before daring to turn our backs on them.

As the doors shut behind the sergeants, you could almost hear relieved sighs.

I climed up the short ladder onto my bunk and opened the footlocker suspended near my feet.

Inside, there were five pairs of fatigues, sweatshirts and underwear. A towel, toothbrush, deodorant and comb were also present. There was a small compartment in the top right corner and when I opened it, there was a pair of safety glasses and ear buds.

There was a clock on the end of the barracks and it read 9.48pm. Still 12 minutes to go.

The former cop I recognize from the bus called for all Delta's 2nd squad to come around.

Ex-cop introduces himself as Rick Holmes and asked everyone to introduce themselves for a better bonding which he hopes will improve our teamwork.

A big guy, maybe around six feet told us he was Henry Matkavoc. He looked friendly enough but when he told us he was an amateur MMA middleweight fighter, everyone shied away from him.

Next in line, there was a short guy named Blake Hesser. Like around five three short. He was a car mechanic until his crew ran out of buisness.

A man in his early thirties is John Stanley. Happily arried and has 2 kids.

Finn Rodgers a dark rather handsome looking guy was a typical unemployed guy who joined the marines.

A pale fellow was halfway introducing himself when someone yelled "Shit! 2 minutes left. Everyone get back on the bunks,". I looked at the clock, it was just a little over a minute. And I scrambled back to my top bunk.

Just in time when a guy switched off the lights and the sergeants came bursting in. The poor guy hasn't gotten to his bunk so he settled by hiding in the shadows.

One of the sergeants switched on the lights. The guy shrunk under the first bottom bunk and wasn't discovered. I looked his bunk and saw that it was messy and the sheets were crumpled together. The pillow was under the sheets and gave the impression that someone slept under the sheets.

The sergeants left the barracks without a sound. The guy under the bunk crept back to his bunk. Some guys even patted him on the back for his quick actions to remain unseen.

I faced the ceiling and closed my eyes. Before I knew it, blessed sleep took me.


	3. Close to Torture

July 21, 2018. Camp Savannah, Texas, USA.

Some sort of loud harsh crappy music of trumpets woke me up. I groaned and flipped on my belly to try and find sleep again. No avail.

At that very moment the doors were flung open. Sarge Noel was there with a hose. Knowing what would happen, I actually leaped off the bed.

A recruit who was sitting on the top bunk was shot off his bed with the hose with the force of a water cannon.

Everyone else didn't need any more motivation we got to our feet and stretched. The sarge ordered us to follow him after we got into our boots.

We followed him around the field twice. It didn't make sense until he headed out to the woods to the west of the camp. We were going to jog. In our sleepwear. Without breakfast.

Thorpe was at the back of our group urging everyone to move faster. I could see that Bravo and Echo were on our trails whereas Alpha, Charlie and Foxtrot were just out of their barracks. Lucky them.

The women recruits of Delta joined us now.

It hasn't been five minutes since I started jogging when I started panting. Regretabbly, I didn't drink much water before I went I sleep so I'm extremely thirsty.

A little while longer jogging, Bravo or Foxtrot took another path as we reached a fork.

The sun wasn't completely up yet so the air is actually quite cool. That didn't stop some men from ripping off their shirts to wipe prespiration off themselves.

My legs ached. The cutting of the boots didn't fit me very well and it was digging into my ankles and the instep of my foot was too loose. That resulted in aching feet as well.

The woods slowly became wetter and muddier. More people tripped and some even started off chain reactions. I was tempted to pretend to fall and just lie down on the ground when Thorpe kicked the recruits to get up and get moving.

Insects of all kinds were present in the air. Flies and mosquitoes are the most evident type. They buzzed around me and it was extremely annoying.

You would think that mosquitoes wouldn't be able to stick themselves on me because I'm jogging and producing a lot of movement. But it doesn't seem to stop those godforsaken insects. I swapped at my leg and around 5 mosquitoes died on the spot.

The run is seriously taking a toll on me. It had reduced me from comfortably jogging to a long stride walk.

We passed a river, I almost wanted to take a drink out of it but it was murky and brown.

We finally stopped at a clearing. There we were given water bottles to drink. Water never tasted so good in my life. Every bit of it might as well be pricelees century old wine.

I chugged it down. In a matter of gulps, not more than a quarter remained but my thirst is still not sated.

"Damn. I'm hungry," said Matkavoc the amateur MMA fighter. Now that he mentioned it, my stomach growled loudly.

"Now that you mention it, I realized I'm hungry as well. So thank you very much for reminding me," I glared at him although I know my anger is misdirected.

Matkavoc chuckled, "If we ever get into hand-to-hand combat training, remind me to pay the sarged back eh?"

Thorpe announced that we would have our breakfast when we got back. We were so hungry that we forgot the lethargy in out muscles tenporarily and started jogging.

My stomach's acid is on the move, making it seem that burning coals are present in my stomach. It's agony, but I pusedd past it and concentrate on moving on.

At least the journey back seemed shorter. We were about to enter the mess hall when Fullerman blocked our way. "I will not have men as dirty as you into my sparkling clean mess hall until you are all cleaned up,"

So close yet so far.

The showers are big. But not so big to fit two companies' worth of recruits at once, and there are six. With that in mind, I sprinted for it. Some smart people must have figured it out as well because they sprinted alongside me.

I was practically stripping myself under the water in desperation. I quickly pumped soap into my hands and soaped myself.

Someone shoved me onto the floor to take my space. There were no walls so I started a chain reaction. The floor was wet with soap and water so I slid quite a distance.

I didn't bother paying that son of a bitch back. I quickly rinsed myself clean and dried myself with a towel. Then I realized I had no clothes to change into. The sleepwear I wore was wet and in the laundry. I draped the towel around myself and went into the barracks.

As far as I'm sure, I was the first to get out of the showers. Outside the showers, some were even getting into fights over who would go first. Lucky I was one of the first to use the showers.

When I opened the barracks door, I saw this huge heap of clothes. Every piece of garment in the barracks was on the floor I had to find a pair of fatigues before I could get into the mess hall.

Not just any fatigues, my fatigues. If sarge caught me wearing someone else's clothes, I'd be dead for sure. All of my stuff had my name on it so I suppose it wouldn't be too hard. I adjusted the towel and dug at the pile with what's left of my meager strength.

"Recruit!", a voice rang out.

I looked up. Sarge Noel was pretty much I'm my face.

"Yes sir?" I stammered back.

"Remind your buddies that if everything is not back into where it came from after lunch break, well let's just say with got another nice installment for you,"

I was horrified. Absolutely horrified. I don't know what this installment is but I wouldn't want to find out. There's also no way to sort through this mess in time for lunch. Lunch was only thirty minutes, come too late and you'll miss your lunch. "Yes sir," I managed.

Noel left through the front door and told the recruits something. When they came in, they were pale.

"What did he say?" one of them asked me.

"Wha-? Samething he told me," I said.

One of the bigger guys grabbed me by the shoulder and shook me hard, "He told us to ask you what he said,"

I pushed his arms away."He said we have to clean this shit up before lunch's over or we'll have some sort of punishment," I glared at the guy who rattled me.

Without further prompt, everyone started digging into the pile. A guy told the newcomers about Noel's order.

Somewhere along I found some clothing stenciled with my name on it. I quickly pulled it on discarding the towel. I stole a glance at the clock and my heart skipped a beat. 12 minutes remained and the pile was still quite large.

Webb who completed helped me find some of my stuff instead of leaving to the mess hall. The speed of our work was pain stakingly slow. Some recruits even fell on their backs in exhaustion and hunger.

7 minutes left, the pile was done, finished, annihilated. I briefly considered letting out a whoop but I just didn't have the energy for it. Some even needed support from friends.

We stumbled into the mess hall, grabbing trays and lining up for food. Spagethi bolognese, mash potatoes, some vegetables, and sausages were on today's menu. I also got a glass of orange juice.

I grabbed a spoon and fork and started shovelling food in starting with the mash potatoes. Halfway through my food, I took a swig out of my orange juice, but that one swig pretty much drained my glass.

I was about to take a bite out of my sausage when the door of the mess hall slammed open. Instinctively, I looked up. To my relief, it wasn't Noel or Thorpe. It was the sergeants of Bravo I think, they ordered the men out of the mess hall for something I guessed wouldn't be nice.

The clock on the wall showed that our lunch break was over, but everyone was more concerned about stuffing themselves full.

I even took second helpings at food and was tempted at a third when the our sergeants ordered us out.

We went to the parade field because the sergeants claimed that our marching was below standard. So here we were, pointlessly walking around the field swinging our arms like idiots.

After 30 minutes of baking under the sun, we were called by Doc Chang's assistant—Thomas Klin, to the medical center for health checking and stuff. Since we were under the sun in noon, I'm sure I'm not the only one with sunburn.

We went to measure our height and weight. Then we had to take a blood sample and send it away.

Doc Chang appeared by the doorway as I finished extracting my blood sample.

"You've got sun burn," he pointed out.

"It'll go off," I shrugged because somehow, I feel that he's testing me.

"In a few days. Here have this," he tossed me a small tin of ointment. "Should go off by tomorrow morning if you apply it straight away,"

"Thanks man," I smiled. Sun burn was annoying in every day life, with physical training it would be agony.

Me being the generous one, shared the ointment around. There was little over half left so I slipped it into my pocket for tonight's use.

The sergeants called us to the parade fields to do more physical training.

Inwardly, I cursed them. My muscles were still sore and we had to do a hundred of pushups, situps, leg squats, jumping jacks, you name it, we did it.


	4. Victory by Betrayal

**July 23, 2018, Camp Savannah, Texas, USA**

Every day was more or less the same. Morning, we would have breakfast and be herded off into jogging for 20 kilometers. We'll shower and find our stuff in a huge pile in the barracks. We didn't dare defy the sergeants to get everything back into place. Word is that Bravo left the pile there and didn't get dinner after a 50 kilometer run along the nearest highway.

After lunch, more physical training followed. Since the sergeants thought we weren't fit enough which was partly true to do other stuff. We were also taught some basic survival skills such as lighting a fire without matches, setting up a tent and stuff.

But one thing I consistently noticed is that every time after our morning jog is that the women always managed to get their stuff from a huge pile into their respective lockers with time to spare after lunch whereas we—guys struggle to finish it and have barely enough time to eat.

Today I was determined to know their secret.

We were about to run an obstacle course which was heavily modified since the first time I saw it after our second jog of the day. It now had structures which resembled a more complex version a reality TV show a few years ago named [Wipeout] or something.

Small swimming pool sized tubs filled with some sort of thick lime green substance which smelled bad were placed under some obstacles such as monkey bars, cargo nets and planks.

We were split into groups of eleven. The lieutenants who were supposed to be the squad leader still hasn't arrived.

Thorpe explained that we're supposed to get to the end of the obstacle course and ring the bell which is suspended in mid air by a rope and all team members must be present before ringing the bell. There are many routes which we take but each one is equally difficult. Last team to make it will go without dinner.

Going without dinner is a huge no-no in my book. So I'm going to win this thing.

Since we were jogging in 3 lines, Thorpe made the first row team one, second row team two and on and on.

I counted my row to find I'm in the 7th row, to my left David Webb and Kayla Tanner—a rather pretty girl. I bet some guys would kill to be in the same team as her. Lucky me.

The sarges gave us a minute to plan.

"Any ideas?" Webb asked. I shook my head at that.

"See those monkey bars up there on the highest tier? We could use 'em and leap over to that water tank for a shortcut before using the plank," Kayla Tanner said. I looked up at where she pointed and my jaw dropped.

The highest tier as Tanner mentioned, was like 4 stories high. I looked at Webb, he and I know that both of us had a fear of heights. I followed the monkey bars and saw the tank she mentioned. Maybe a meter away, there was a plank suspended mid air we could walk to get to the bell. It was a shortcut, and worth using because after the plank, the route seems easy.

I'm impressed that Tanner saw it and planned it in the short amount of time, the course was extremely complex so it's not an easy feat.

"Alright saddle up ladies. Get your asses onto the line here and get ready on my mark," Thorpe barked.

Noel was on a tower like structure to observe us. He even had a camera recording us.

"Follow me," I told my team as I lead them to the line. Webb was behind me and Tanner was behind him.

"3, 2, 1, mark!" yelled Thorpe. And I sprinted to a ladder with Webb and Tanner hot on my heels.

I reached the ladder and started climbing it. Some idiot pushed me off the ladder and started climbing himself. I was extremely angry, who did this fucker thought he was?

I jumped on his back and kneed him in the kidneys before peeling him off the ladder and climbing it myself.

I ran across a net which is supposed to be a climed across from the tier below. I quick glance behind me confirmed that my team was behind me and we're in front of the others.

I climbed up a cargo net which would lead to the second highest tier.

When I reached up there, I surveyed the surroundings. I was almost under the monkey bars but there's no way to get up there.

"Boost you up?" Webb offered.

"Sure," I replied.

We got to the area where the tier above ended. I took a run and jumped on Webb's hands. I struggled to get a grip on the wooden flooring of the tier above. Webb pushed my legs from under so I made it to the top.

"Hurry! Come on!" I said as I reached out for Webb. I pulled him up with help from Tanner. We got her up pretty fast since she was lighter than both of us.

I saw that we're around the third place now. Webb started on the monkey bars.

"Come on," Tanner said to me. I shook my head.

"You go first. Arms tired," I told her. She took off and got to the fifth bar before I even started.

I started on the bars. On the twelfth bar, I couldn't go anymore. I was already tired from climbing up the ladder and cargo net, pulling up Webb and Tanner really used up a lot of my strength.

I suspended mid air, catching my breath. But every second I stopped, my arms ached even more. Dropping down would not be an option since the next tier to catch me would be solid wood.

Out of nowhere, I had a crazy idea. Taking a deep breath, I used both hands and pulled myself up to a crouch ontop of the bar. I wasted no time walking on top of the bars instead of swinging from them.

I'm glad I thought of walking on the bars instead of swinging because the bars went up to thirty meters and I don't think I could have finished it.

Webb and Tanner were already waiting for me on the water tank thing and I waved them to move on. Once I was close enough, I leaped at the water tank.

Unfortunately, I miscalculated. Fortunately, the water tank had a base. I slid off the water tank onto the base before jumping on the plank.

Suddenly, the base of the water tank opened and water splashed onto two teams below fighting to swing from rope to get across. Both teams got washed down to the ground.

Tanner got distracted by thay and lost her balance. She was about to fall off the plank but I caught her. I grabbed her arms and was about to pull her up when the plank started vibrating badly.

Webb lost his balance as well and fell into a tub filled with the green substance. The plank broke in the middle and I plummeted below with Tanner below me.

We both submerged into the slime at the same time. At first, relaxation came to me. The slime was dense, but soft. Then, shock overcame my senses.

The green slime is burning me. Not hot burn, but cold burn. Fucking cold slime at freezing temperatures and I'm inside it. Webb was already climbing out of the tub but Tanner was no where to be seen.

My body seemed to have icy cold daggers stabbing everywhere like violent needle-and-pins sensation. But I felt something, no someone trashing under me—Tanner.

I reached under me to pull her up. She gulped the air desperately.

My whole body was numb already and moving my limbs were extremely difficult in the dense slime. The smell was also invading me, a horrible rotten eggs smell.

I reached the lip of the tub and hoisted myself up out of the tub itself before dragging Tanner out.

Webb was on his knees, vomiting out the slime. It smelled so bad, I don't want to think about what it tasted like.

Tanner then, vomited as well. That wasn't the problem. Problem is that she vomited right onto me. An urge came up my throat, I suppressed it and wiped off the vomit from myself.

I would be content to lie down on the grass and fall asleep. My body was now nerve racking numb, to put it lightly I felt horrible.

Someone pulled me up on my feet. It was Finn Rodgers. I saw Rick Holmes and another guy helping out Webb as well.

"Hey man. We got out of the course to help you and you better start moving because I'm damn bloody sure that you want your dinner so don't waste our efforts to save you," Finn growled at me. When I didn't respond, he slapped me sharply across the cheek. That did the trick, I came to my senses.

I patted him on the back and told him to go. Rick and Finn left us then.

Tanner was still vomiting uncontrollably. I looked at Webb and shrugged. I draped her over my shoulder and ran up a hill with a steep incline.

Halfway up, I stopped to sit on the ground and laid Tanner down. My legs were already aching. Webb offered to carry her but I declined, he looked worse than I was. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his dissapointed expression.

Tanner struggled off the ground and said, "We got to move now guys," She smiled at me, "Thanks Strive"

I mumbled an _it's okay_. No one has called me Strive before. Sure my last name was Strivfter but Strive was a bit extreme.

While we were scaling a wall, I heard the bell being rung three times. None of us were very tall and had problem getting up but Matkavoc, the former MMA fighter from my squad was up there. He pulled all three of us up and took off.

"Man, people keep helping us today," I sighed.

We got to a plank but decided against using it after what happened to us.

We used a rope to get across a pit filled with the green slime. I was last to swing. When I was about to reach, the damn rope broke and I sprawled onto the floor.

There was a treadmill like thing and while we were heading towards it, the bell rang again. I thought the treadmill would be easy even though it was heading in the opposite direction we are going but it's not.

It took like a minute to get past it and our legs were burning bad and the muscles are pretty much jelly . Worst of all, Webb sprained his ankle while jumping the last few feet to make it onto solid ground.

At the end, Tanner and I had to support him by the arms to help him walk. I couldn't help but to notice he leaned more to Tanner. His crush on her couldn't be more obvious now but she didn't notice.

We're among the last few teams now. And the clouds above us started to rain, making the ground under us muddy which made it increasingly harder to walk.

We got to a basket attached with a pulley like system which would get us to the middle tier—the one where the bell is located at the end.

I loaded Webb into it and we started pulling the rope. It was fruitless. We were too heavy and we didn't have the strength to pull ourselves up. But even of we didn't use this basket, there's no way to get Webb onto the middle tier with his bad ankle.

I got out of the basket. Before they could ask what I was doing, I said quickly "Too heavy for three of us. I'm staying down here to pull. Get to the bell. I'll get there as soon as I can," They didn't protest.

"On three," I said. Webb counted. And we pulled on the rope as hard as we could. The basket moved two feet off the ground. We pulled again and again until the basket reached the middle tier, by that time the rope was very slippery because of the rain. I didn't let go until they got out of the basket and gave me a thumbs up or else the basket would give way to gravity along with them in it.

I spotted a ladder and went up it. I did a quick count as I climbed up. Four teams including mine left.

I didn't watch where I put my foot and I slipped. I actually managed to get a hold of the ladder with my fingers but the rain made my fingers slip.

I fell onto the first tier on my back, I think I dislocated my left shoulder in the process because it feels funny. Nothing serious, but it hurts.

I climbed up again, this time more carefully. I got up to the middle tier but couldn't see my team anywhere near the bell. I head a scream of pain. Unmistakably, it's Tanner.

I sprinted towards her voice and saw two big guys surrounding her and Webb. Webb got to a fighting position but was knocked out by a swift hook. I was severely pissed. No one knocks out my friends.

I jumped and kicked the guy who knocked Webb out in the back. The other guy was pretty stunned by my sudden appearance and I took advantage of that by delivering an uppercut to his jaw followed by a series of quick punches to his face.

The guy I kicked wrapped his arms around my neck and squeezed. I saw black spots as all my breath was force out. I stamped hard on his foot an elbowed him in the abdomen. I might have hit his balls but I didn't care.

I planted a kick on the second guy's chest as he came foward and he almost fell out of the course.

"Enough!" yelled someone. That someone appeared to be the third team member who just jumped down from the tier above mine. "I apologize for my teammates' actions," he said although he didn't look too sorry about it. He hefted up both of his teammates before heading to the bell.

I looked at my team. Webb, was still out cold with a black eye and Tanner's cheek was swollen. "You OK?" I asked.

"Do I look OK?" Tanner raised an eyebrow. Admittedly she looked like hell with vomit and slime over her fatigues and bruises over her arms and face.

"What happened?" I asked as I put Webb on my shoulder and started walking to the bell.

"Those bastards attacked us after we got off the basket. I think they were waiting for the third guy and didn't want us to ring the bell,"

"So how'd you get that?" I pointed at her swollen cheek.

She rolled her eyes and said, "Got punched. What do you expect?"

I shrugged "Should have hit them harder"

She frowned "What's wrong with your shoulder?"

"I dunno. Fell off a ladder. Think I dislocated it,"

We reached the bell and savored the moment. "Well, this is it then," I said.

I rang it with a smile but when I looked back, I saw the the last team remaining. Team number 9. The one which consist of Rick Holmes, Finn Rodgers and Henry Matkavoc. Without them, we'd not have gotten here. In short, we pretty much back stabbed them.


	5. Cage Fight

July 23, 2018. Camp Savannah, Texas, USA.

I never felt so bad in my life. I wished that I looked behind me first before ringing the bell. My win in the obstacle course was absolutely unfair. Team 9 helped us on two separate occasions which we couldn't overcome in time—recovering from the freezing slime and getting over an eight foot high wall.

Shortly after we rang the bell, Thorpe congratulated the teams who made it and either didn't notice or pretended not to at Webb being unconsious and bruises on my team members.

Team 9 finished last and would have to go without their share of dinner which I am currently eating now.

Webb was listening intently at Tanner telling how I kicked ass after he got knocked out. I smiled briefly at the memory.

Something popped up in my mind, "Hey, how does barracks 7 get to lunch so fast? You have to sort out shit as well right?" I asked Tanner.

"Well, we don't fight," she said simply.

I frowned. As far as I know, we never fought to get our stuff back into our respective footlockers.

"No. What he means is that how you guys get your stuff into your footlockers so fast," Webb clarified.

"Oh. We use teamwork?" she replied. When neither Webb or I returned blank stares, she continued "You know, I give you your stuff if I see it you give me mine when you see mine,"

I could see the logic in that. It would be much slower for individuals searching for their own stuff tan a bunch of individuals giving each other's stuff.

I nodded to that and grabbed a few napkins. I filled them with sausages, chicken strips, ham and stuff that wasn't too wet. I put them in my pockets and continued eating.

"That for Team 9?" Tanner asked quietly.

"No. I'm using them as a sacrifice for a god," I said sarcastically.

"We'll get into trouble if the sarges knew," she said worriedly.

"I'll get into trouble," I said with more confidence than I had. Webb kept quiet, he knew it was the right thing to do. I got out of my seat and headed back to the barracks.

The cool night air was refreshing. The moon was full tonight and the stars were out. I checked the coast to see if it was clear. I didn't see anyone so I quickly snuck into my barracks.

"Man it's totally our fault. We shouldn't have helped them. Now we're missing dinner," complained Finn Rodgers. I stopped myself from opening the door at that time.

"Shut it. They would have done the same for us," growled Rick Holmes.

"They didn't let us ring the bell,"

"They didn't know we were there. I'm hundred percent sure that they would let us do it," countered Matkavoc.

Rodgers muttered something I couldn't hear through the door and I waited a second more before opening it.

Matkavoc and Holmes greeted me, Rodgers didn't look at me.

I sat on my bunk and said, "Thanks for the help today. We wouldn't have made it without you" silence followed. "I'm really sorry that you helped us and we didn't return the favor," I continued.

"It's alright man," Holmes reassured me.

"You guys can keep a secret?" I asked.

"What? That you banged Kayla Tanner now?" Rodgers said sarcastically. I ignored that and took out the dinner I stole for them.

"Try not to make a mess," I said. Rodgers actually fell off his bed when he saw the food.

Matkavoc grinned and slapped me on the back thanking me. Even Holmes lost his calm composure and hurried over to eat the food.

I left the barracks then, not wanting anyone to be suspicious of my whereabouts. It was dark and I bumped into someone face-first. I backpedelled immediately after noticing that the silhouette of the person I bumped into was wearing a training instructor's hat.

"Don't think I didn't see what you did," I recognized the voice as Thorpe's.

"Sir, with all due respect I think did the right thing. They helped us and it's time to return th–"

"Relax son. I saw what they did for you. How's your friend?"

"Webb?" He said nothing so I took it as a yes. "He's awake now,"

Silence ensued and I broke the silence. "Permission to speak sir,"

"Permission granted, recruit,"

"Do you have a reason to visit us, sir?"

He chuckled at that "Yes. Tomorrow, the lieutenants will be arriving, that is all,"

The reason why I was speaking so formally was out of fear. Littman wasn't the only guy punished for lack of respect. Another guy named Joseph Garcia had been forced to do pushups until he collapsed from exhaustion.

* * *

The next morning instead of taking our daily morning jog we waited for the lieutenants who where going to be our team leader at the parade field.

As usual, Major Fullerman welcomed the lieutenants and assigned us one each. Second Lieutenant Gordon Hamilton was a young man in his mid twenties who also sported a pencil mustache. He was our squad leader from now.

Since it wasn't time for lunch yet, Fullerman gave us time to introduce ourselves to our squad leaders.

We settled down in the mess hall since the parade field wasn't shaded.

Each of us introduced ourselves to Hamilton. "Good to meet you all," he gave us a genuine smile. "You guys got yourselves into fireteams yet?"

Holmes said, "Nope. We thought you'd want to do that yourself,"

Hamilton shrugged, "I'm not a dictator. Pick four guys for a group and stick to the decision,"

Instinctively, Webb and I formed a fireteam since we knew each other the best.

I was about to ask Tanner when she said "I assume you and Webb would be in a team. Mind if I join?", as if reading my mind.

"Uh. Sure I guess," I said. That made three of us. I considered Matkavoc but before I could ask, he told me he joined Holmes'.

I asked Lucas Grayson, a pretty nice guy with an easy smile but unfortunately he was picked as well.

"Um just so you know, I'm available," Rodgers told Hamilton. I really didn't want him in my group, he was still sour from not having a proper dinner yesterday.

Hamilton asked, "Which fireteam has only three?" I raised my hand.

"Excellent. Now son you're in their fireteam," Hamilton said. Inwardly, I groaned at that.

Rodgers didn't look too happy about it either, but his mood considerably brightened after he learned that Tanner was in my fireteam.

* * *

"Men, you are about to learn to fight. Not the way your mother taught you, but the way the marine corps taught you," Thorpe barked.

We all stood infront of the sarges at a sandy area like a desert and we're sweating buckets.

"Matkavoc!" Thorpe called.

"Yes sir?" Matkavoc replied nervously.

"Show these ladies how to punch," Thorpe strapped on a target on his palm.

Matkavoc complied and stepped foward in front of Thorpe in a fighting stance. Thorpe nodded and Matkavoc threw a punch at the target.

Matkavoc's punch was so hard that it made Thorpe lose his balance temporarily.

"Now that ladies, is a KO punch," Thorpe announced.

We were then split into groups to practice punching targets. I held two targets for Webb. Admittedly, his punches were pathetic. Although there was power behind his punch, there was little impact force.

I then made him hold the targets and demonstrated for him.

"How do you punch so hard? My fingers hurt a bit now," he grumbled.

For a moment, I thought I heard wrongly. "Did you say fingers hurt?"

"Yeah why?"

"You're suppose to punch with your knuckles, not the front of your fingers," I said. "Hits harder with solid bone that fingers. Jeez, who taught you to punch?"

"No one. I thought we're supposed to do that,"

We proceeded learning kicks which a lot of people struggled to keep their balance after hiring a target. It was quite boring for me since I learned Taekwondo at a young age. I could execute kicks almost perfectly because I mastered all of them while training in TKD.

After that, Thorpe made us strap on the sort of boxing gloves MMA fighters wore, shin and elbow guards, a soft helmet and a mouth guard. Our objective was to get into a ring of with another 3 people and kick people out of the game by knocking them out, getting them into a submission hold for more than 8 seconds or if one of them admitted defeat.

I really hoped that I didn't get into the ring with Matkavoc. He's sure to beat me up into a pulp.

First round was up. I wasn't picked, but Matkavoc was along with 3 other guys I didn't recognize.

In the first minute, Matkavoc knocked out one guy and broke another guy's his finger while grappling. The guy with the broken finger fled the ring.

It boiled down to Matkavoc and the stranger. The stranger went on the offensive, delivering several quick jabs at Matkavoc.

I wasn't sure what happened next, all I saw afterwards was that the stranger flew a couple of feet back and was unconsious on the floor.

Most rounds went without much action which meant that half of the people surrendered after getting hit somewhere. I even saw one guy claimed that he got kicked in the balls just to get out barely after the match started.

I was pretty nervous by the time I was called into the ring. Finn Rodgers was chosen along with one of the guys who beat up Webb and Tanner at the obstacle course yesterday—I just learnt his name was Terrence Higgs and finally—Webb?

I thought I heard wrongly or something. "Did sarge call you out?" I asked him hurriedly. He merely nodded at that.

"Team up?" I offered.

"But at the end we'll fight each other," he countered.

"We're not invincible,"

"May the best man survive," I chuckled.

We stepped inside the ring. "3, 2, 1, fight!" Thorpe yelled.

Webb and I stood closely facing our opponents. People were already talking about our alliance.

Finn Rodgers lunged at me and I dodged him. The other guy—Terrence Higgs, socked me in the jaw hard. I fell to the ground and I was bleeding in the mouth. I realized I stupidly bit my own tongue. My jaw throbbed with pain, and I'm sure I was going get a bad bruise.

When I got onto my feet, Webb had Rodgers in a chokehold but was struggling to mantain it to kick him out of the game.

Higgs came foward towards me. He even did the 'come at me' gesture. _Cocky bastard  
_my inner-self growled.

I pirouetted and did a roundhouse kick to the base of his neck, where the helmet didn't protect. He fell on his knees, but in a flash he got up and pinned me down on the ground with his left forearm pinning my head to the ground.

He used his right arm to repeatedly punch me the temple. I even started to bleed and some of the blood trickled into my eyes.

I pulled him closer to me by the neck, remembering what Mike taught me to do when grappling on the ground. I managed to squeeze out my right leg from under Higgs to push him away. On the ground I was at a disadvantage because Higgs was much stronger and heavier.

I got to my feet and kicked him in the face while he was still getting up. I checked on Webb. He was doing OK, but Rodgers seemed to be the better fighter.

I took a short run before jumping up and pulled my leg as high as possible and slamming down on Rodger's head—a classic TKD axe kick.

Rodgers crumpled to the ground and didn't get up anymore. I guess that's a KO.

Webb gave me a thumbs up. We both circled Higgs. He managed to grab the front of my shirt and threw me into Webb. I slammed into him and we both tumbled into the ground.

I was picked up again by a fireman's carry and threw on the ground, reminding me of a move used by the famous WWE wrestler—John Cena.

The pain in my head was increasing. I couldn't even think straight. I saw Webb in a chokehold, 8 seconds must have been up because Thorpe ordered him out of the ring.

I kicked Higgs in the side but he was fast enough to grab my leg. He then pulled me around the ring by my leg in glee. He was maintaining a vice like grip on my leg and I couldn't shake free. My back is hurting damn bad from the friction already.

Finally, he let go. He picked me up by the collar of my fatigues, and spat in my face.

The spittle hit me right in the eye and that made me furious. I grabbed the front of his shirt and head butted him. I must have broke his nose because it was bleeding profusely. When he let me go, I went into fury mode—hitting him everywhere with fists, elbows, knees and feet.

He collapsed and I was close to it from exhaustion. Webb clapped me on the back.

"See Chang. He'll fix you up," Thorpe pointed at my bleeding forehead.

Webb half-carried me all the way to the medical center. He left me in the lobby area then he went back to watch the rest of the fight.

There was quite a long line from all the recruits who got injured during the fight.

Finally after 42 minutes, my turn. Doc. Chang didn't say anything, he just applied some sort of cool cream at the wound. He then hurried me out.

I went back to where the fight was and found Thorpe announcing the winners. I found Webb and he quickly whispered to me, "Don't go near Tanner. She's damn mad right now,"

I saw her and she looked really pissed off and was hissing something furiously at someone I didn't recognize. Heeding Webb's advice, I scooted off in the opposite direction.

Thorpe specially congratulated squad 2 because out of 8 matches, we won 4. Matkavoc, Blake Hesser—a former mechanic, someone named Grayson and me.

* * *

Dinner for squad two was steak which I bet will be a rare treat. It was also Thorpe and Noel's way of congratulating us. The meal was excellent as well, and after the somewhat boring food we've been eating, it was close to five-star status.

What was spoiling is was Tanner. She kept on ranting non-stop about how she lost and how unfair it was. Apparently, she made it into the last two and her opponent grabbed her by the hair and got her into a submission for over 10 seconds.

It was annoying really. So much that it seemed as if she wanted to start a hate campaign.

"Kayla. Shut up," I almost yelled at her. She was stunned at my outburst.

"Nobody gives a shit about how you lost. Selena Borist won fair and square end of story," I continued.

"She grabbed my hair, how is that fair?" she yelled back and slammed her palm on the table.

I really lost my temper then, "That's BS. In a real life scenario you would do anything and everything to come out alive. You really think that someone's going to give a damn about pulling your hair just to win? I'd happily pull out your tongue if it means stopping your bitching if you're my enemy,"

She stood up and walked out of the mess hall without another word. I didn't really feel bad about it although I knew I was too harsh.

"Thanks for shutting her up," said Holmes gratefully.

"No problem. She was getting under my skin," I replied and stood up.

"Where're you going? You don't need to apologize to her. You were right,"

I cracked a grin, "Obviously I'm not going after her. I'm getting second helpings,"


	6. Hike of Relaxation

25 July 2018, Camp Savannah, Texas, USA

Today, we're going on a 36 hour hike. We're supposed to get to a designated checkpoint on a mountain and get back to camp within that set amount of time. It seemed straight forward enough until we're issued heavy packs to weigh us down and we're only given three liters of water and 2 packets of MREs or meals-ready-to-eat. According to our squad leader—Hamilton, they tasted like shit.

Surprisingly, we were also given combat knives—standard issue KA-BAR fighting/utility knife. But we were on strict orders to use them for utility purposes only.

Unoficially, Hamilton, Drake and Williams—the other two squad leaders, agreed to race each other to and back. At first, my squad and I were reluctant but after some goading, insults and other forms of provocations, we were fired up to best them.

We stuffed ourselves full during breakfast because our food supply during the hike is purposely limited. This test is supposed to train us to function properly as soldiers even with low supplies. It was compulsory training for every mariner.

I reached the starting point ten minutes before I'm supposed to and waited. Almost all of my squad was present. Hamilton did a quick headcount, "Where the hell is Hesser and Tanner?"

"Over here sir," said Blake Hesser as he jogged over"My stomach wasn't happy. Had to take a dump," Nobody questioned him.

The other two squads already started the hike without us when it was time.

"Where's Tanner?" No one answered. We then saw her coming towards us from the showers.

"You appreciate hygiene that much eh? I prefer being in the lead," grumbled Hamilton at her.

"Where were you?" Webb asked her.

"Where did you see me come from?"

"The showers," he admitted. I didn't join the conversation because I wasn't sure if Tanner and I were on talking terms since yesterday. From experience I knew that one wrong move and _bam!_, there goes friendship and the girl so luckily gets sympathized whereas the guy get's his reputation ruined plus get's shunned aside by the community. Luckily this phenomenon only happens with girls, or I'd be friendless. I've got no idea how some guys maintained a friendship with a girl for years without fighting, I tried a few times and mostly failed miserably.

Someone poked me hard in the shoulder, breaking me away from my thoughts. "Oi, I was talking to you," Tanner said.

I blinked, "You were?"

"Stop dreaming like a retard,"

"Got a purpose for hitting me?"

"Well, I apologize for yesterday and you were right. Real life scenarios aren't going to be fair," I was surprised, at least she wasn't as obstinate as I thought her to be. I held back a _i told you so_ because I'm one hundred and one percent sure that it would spark another unrational fight.

"You look different today," Webb remarked at Tanner.

"For better or worse?" I could see that she was hiding a smile.

I snapped my fingers, "You cut your hair short," Her hair was fully capable of being tied into a ponytail before she cut it. Now, it barely touched her shoulders.

"Finally Sherlock solves the puzzle. Like it?" She asked.

"I dunno," I grunted. I bet it was one of those _does my butt look fat?_ questions that were dangerous either way.

I shrugged and readjusted my pack. The path we were taking were hilly. Steep slopes going up and down, it was a wonder that no one has tripped yet.

The sun was high up in it's full glory and bathing us in it's cursed glare. The sandy route we were taking was sparse with vegetation and trees were as rare as diamonds around here. The only green I saw was on the mountain itself.

There was an incident when Robert 'Smartass' Littman tripped over a loose stone and tumbled down the hill cartoon-style-head-over-heels. Everyone was too busy laughing to help him up. No one really liked him because he was an insuffurable prick.

Somewhere around late evening, we stopped for a break and to eat our MREs. Our MREs contained different things for a little variety as the cook told us.

There was a main course, side dish and snack packed inside the MRE. I opened mine slowly and proccessed the contents inside one by one.

Tanner elbowed me, "Stop being so dramatic," I chuckled and ripped my MRE apart after that.

I had gotten noodles and chicken, bacon, a couple of energy bars, crackers and a packet of powder form tea. Apparently, I'm one of the lucky ones. Others had much less unappetizing food. I didn't really like tea so I swapped it for a orange juice with Holmes who was more than glad to do so.

Webb poked some mush with his plastic spoon. "The hell is this?" he exclaimed. The mush looked like it had been deep-fried and half blended, looking at it instantly made me lose my appetite.

"Refried beans. One of the worsts. Bad luck kid," Hamilon said.

At the end, I sympathized Webb and swapped some of my noodles for his beans. The beans tasted terrible. It was soft and crunchy if that was even possible and the aftertaste had a tinge of bitterness. In short, it was like eating stale biscuit crumbs and bitter tofu. I tried not to vomit after that.

"Next time I get that shit, you're swapping some of your food with me," I remarked. At least I had the bacon. It was nice touch of flavor, salty and smoky but unfortunately around half of it was fat. Hamilton told me to keep the fat for oil when we wanted a camp fire or something.

I saved the energy bars and crackers for later. We kept moving at a moderate pace and reached the foot of the mountain a few hours after our impromptu lunch/dinner. We set up camp there. We even started a campfire to huddle around and try to fight off the cold. 'Plenty of time to run this course. Some campfire isn't going to cause us to fail' were the exact words of Hamilton.

The fire was fed by fallen branches, twigs and leftover food—mostly the unappetizing stuff. We even managed to cut up some of the larger fallen branches with our utility knives.

This training course actually seemed fun, everyone was exchanging jabs and making fun of everyone. But after an hour people started nodding off, most notably Stanley and Bennings—both married men in their early thirties. Even the fire was died to a small flame that produced a comfortable glow.

I made a move to toss in a couple of branches to the fire to keep it going but Hamilton waved me off. "Unless you wanna be all night up tending to the fire, leave it. It might get outta control," he said with a yawn.

I set up the two-man tent with Webb on a soft patch of sand. I unrolled my sleeping bag which was just a thin piece of mattress and fell into deep slumber almost immediately.

* * *

A cold splash of water got me in the face and I jumped out of my bed while bending my knees to absorb the impact of landing on the floor of my barracks—only for me to sprawl in the dirt.

"What the-" I sputtered, I then only remembered that I was mountain trekking and slept in a sleeping bag instead of a normal day at camp. Hesser extended an arm and helped me up onto my feet.

"Who dumped water on me?" I questioned him. He hid a grin and ignored me. When I pressed him for an answer, he admitted that he did.

Apparently, Hamilton woke up a few of us including himself, me, Hesser and Holmes—the fireteam leaders. Holmes was his second-in-command, no one argued. He was the best man for the job and has a few years of experience being a cop.

At the end, we managed to wake everyone up in all sorts of "creative" ways. For example, a couple of guys and me picked up Webb by his limbs and dropped him on a pricky bush nearby, which elicited a string of curse words from him. But he quickly forgave us after pranking someone else awake.

Littman had a bunch of sleeping bags bury him and everyone took turns to jump on the pile of mattresses. Amazingly, he managed to sleep through the whole ordeal but we scared him pretty bad after all of us jumped on him at the same time.

Hamilton and Hesser were tied to be the one who came up with the best ideas of terrorizing people awake. They were wickedly imaginative.

After a ten-twenty minutes of extreme fun and laughter, we got back to our march up the mountain. I rinsed my mouth with water and spat it out to get rid of the nasty morning taste before chewing on my energy bars and crackers I had left from yesterday.

There were dark rain clouds looming over us and the wind was running wild. The trees on the foot of the mountain weren't the big sturdy sort and were whipped around by the wind. I really hoped that the branches wouldn't break or we'd be attacked by missiles.

Sometime later, it started raining. There was no drizzle, just a sudden downpour that soaked everything within seconds. Brushing my hair away, I looked behind me to make sure that everyone was accounted for. In the heavy rain, someone could easily get lost.

I helped out Hesser who had some trouble getting over fallen log with his short 5'3 frame. He had a cut behind his ear and when I asked him about it, he told me it was a flying branch.

We ended up seeking shelter under a rock ledge that provided some protection against the onslaught of the wind and rain. Even with a cigarette lighter, we couldn't start a fire at the driest spot of the ledge with the slightly-wet wood we managed to scavenge.

Since we were here to stay for quite a while, I opened up my last MRE along with a few others. This time, I got a tin of baked beans, crackers and energy bars as usual, some sort of meat spread and—

"Fuck," I said, louder than I intended.

"What's wrong?" Webb asked me while chewing his food over the howling of the wind.

"Nothing. Just goddamned refried beans," I told him glumly.

"Oh damn, that's nasty. Bad luck bro," Webb sympathized. I tried eating the refried stuff but couldn't go further than two spoonfuls.

I wrapped it up and threw it away in disgust. Hamilton eyed it, "If you don't mind, we can use it as fuel for the fire," I nodded.

He put the wrapped stuff into the corner and used his lighter. The wrapper shriveled into ash almost immediately. The refried beans started to burn very quickly. Some of them even popped like popcorn in the oven.

"Hmm, must be the oil in them," theorized Hesser who was on my left. I grunted, not caring for the scientific explanation as long as I got warm.

A couple of soaking wet hours passed before the rain stopped. And by stop, I meant that the rain was reduced to a semi-light rain. That didn't stop us from moving though, we were severely behind schedule and we're doubtful if we can make it back in time. Our water supplies were getting low too, all food was gone save for the crackers and energy bars.

From our vantage point, we saw what must be the checkpoint through a gap in the trees. It was a red colored post with an antenna sticking out the top. It looked kind of comical actually.

We double timed it all the way to the checkpoint with renewed motivation but mother nature didn't intend on making it easy. The dirt mixed with rain water was sluggish mud and it really drained our energy.

Matkavoc easily reached there first. He had the longest legs and was one of the fitest so it wasn't much of a surprise. Webb however, was red-faced and was panting in exhaustion. "You alright?" I asked him. He didn't bother replying, he just gestured to himself.

"OK OK, I get it," I said with a small laugh. I watched Hamilton as he muttered something into the red post. A hatch suddenly opened and Hamilton removed something that looked like an envelope out of it.

"Oh goody. We're in the Great Race now," I said, referring to a popular reality television game show.

"It's the Amazing Race," corrected Stanley—the family guy.

"You watch that?" I asked him.

"Yeah, me and my kids love to—"

"Good news boys and girls, there's one envelope still in there so we're not the last," Hamilton announced, interrupting my conversation. We didn't celebrate in response, we were tired and just headed down the path we took in silence.

In about 8 hours, we made it back to Camp Savannah. It was quite a surprise that we reached first place but by that time, we were haggard with hunger and thirst. We didn't pass any other squad but we were told that squad one who was ahead of us, had lost their way. Noel gruffly told us that we finished the course in 34 hours— 2 hours less than the minimum requirement.

Squad three reached shortly after us and squad one at barely made the time limit.

All congratulations set aside, we took a shower and entered the mess hall for our first hot meal in 36 hours. Needless to say, the food was a nice change of diet from MREs and god forbid—refried beans.


	7. Bad News and a Dropout

**August 14th, 2018. Camp Savanah, Texas, USA.**

I still couldn't really process what happened despite the fact that it happened two days ago. All I feel is shock, grief, anger and a whole bunch of other negative feelings that reminds me what made me join the marines.

Major Fullerman's words from the morning before yesterday's kept replaying themselves in snippets in my head over and over again. "Yesterday evening at 1700 hours, the terrorist struck again", "This time at Chicago's subway system", "112 confirmed casualties, over 200 wounded"

Finn Rodgers—my squadmate, lost not one, but two family members and another is seriously wounded. His mother and younger sister were caught in the explosion and died instantly, his younger brother however survived but is in coma and depending on an IV drip.

_-flashback-_  
_People gasped at the news. It was horrifying, terrible and ultimately, shocking. The atmosphere was so tense that it could snap at the drop of a pin._

_Fullerman said grimly that Finn Rodgers had lost loved ones. Rodgers immediately staggered, shock and disbelief registered across his face. When the full brunt of reality hit him, he collapsed back onto the ground._

_His tears will come later, I thought. As the same thing happened to me._

_A moment of silence passed in respect for the dead. Fullerman then started another speech about the dead but no one listened. After what seemed like an hour of standing under the sweltering heat of the sun, we were finally dismissed, murmuring to ourselves._  
_-end of flashback-_

In the night, muffled sobbing could be heard. No doubt it was Rodgers still grieving his loss. It also reminded me of Mike's death and brought out painful memories from the corner of my brain.

Our drill instructors didn't relent on our training though. If anything, they pushed us even harder. But then I suppose, it keeps our minds off the recent events. Everyone was unusually quiet even during lunch and dinner where normally laughter, insulting and teasing would be present.

But Rodgers' personality changed the most. Gone was his snarky self who would always try to slack off during training when the DIs weren't looking. In replacement, was a much quieter demeanor and a fierce drive to do everything our drill instructors demanded out of us.

He took everything more than serious, such as our current third cage fight. Secretly, I'm glad I didn't have to face him.

Rodgers' last opponent collapsed on the ground with a bleeding nose and he's out cold from a deadly right hook to the jaw.

"Luckily we didn't face him," remarked Webb from my side.

"Luckily for you," I snorted cockily.

"Oh, I'm so sorry sir. I forgot that you won every cage fight you've been in," Webb said with a high falsetto voice.

"I haven't been up against Matkavoc, he'd kick my ass for sure," I said. While it was true that I've won three out of three cage fights, I'm no where near to Matkavoc's level.

"He's a MMA fighter, he'd kick all our asses,"

"Where's Finn? He should be around to bathe in his glory like he did last time," I glanced around.

Webb frowned "I think he went to the showers or something,"

"We should check if he's alright, I mean he just lost two of his family,"

"Nah, he won't drown himself. He'll probably be cooling off," he reassured me while craning his neck to get a better angle of the next fight.

I sighed and walked towards the showers.

I found Rodgers practically drowning his face in water and tapped him on the shoulder lightly. "You alright man?" When he gave me a blank expression, I said, "I mean, you just lost some of your family,"

He shrugged, "It get's easier when you don't think about it. But sometimes it just comes back and haunt you,"

"I lost my father in an attack last year. The shuttle bus incident in New York," he winced.

"I'm sorry. Must be hard losing your only family"

"Don't worry. I got over it, takes time though,"

"The fight helped though. Got a chance to blow off some steam," I agreed with him.

"We should get back, before Thorpe or Noel finds us here," I said, a little worried because last time someone ran off without permission even after training, well let's just say he didn't exactly get a slap on the wrist.

"I hear you man," Rodgers said while getting to his feet.

Just in time when we made it back, the last fight ended. Resulting in one guy tapping out after being pinned on the floor and repeatedly punched in the head.

A guy from Alpha Company approached Rodgers, at least I think he's from Alpha. "You're Finn Rodgers right?" he asked.

"Yeah. Why?" a sudden realization hit him, "My brother is okay right? Is there anything wrong?" He asked worriedly.

"I'm not sure. But Major Fullerman wants to talk with you," he replied nervously.

"Lead the way,"

"See you later man," I told him. He only nodded in response, he was probably thinking up of a million scenarios including his comatose brother.

In about half an hour later, we were busy doing some sort of complex workout which our DIs claimed would use every muscle in the body.

In one of the so-called 'goody workouts', we would have to crouch, get into a push-up stance and do it once, then jump up, do a leg squat, lie down on our backs to do a sit-up. We also did several other combinations and each proved itself more tiring than the one before it.

Those who were wounded seriously enough to warrant a visit to the infirmary joined us in the last exercise which involved holding a brick with our arms straight at a ninety degree angle while doing sit-ups.

When we were done, pools of sweat were staining the ground. Every muscle in our body hurt like fuck and we were fighting to stay conscious, even the prospect of a shower and a hot dinner didn't stir enough motivation for us to move. Only the threat of getting a boot up our ass got us successfully getting up to the showers.

The cold shower we took rejuvenated our senses and sort of helped our sore muscles. I looked over to around me, since the shower had no walls or cubicles, we generally avoided looking below the waist of someone. A few of the guys were just leaning agaisnt the wall and letting the water run down their back without bothering about soap. Only a few retained enough stamina to create small talk while.

Me? I just focused on enjoying the sensation of water flowing down my back, freezing cold or not.

I didn't want to get out of the shower although the water temperature was steadily dropping, it was kinda relaxing. Well, until the camp staff shut it off. By then, I staggered out of the showers and changed into a clean pair of fatigues and headed to the mess hall.

Ever since we started to be able to rearrange our stuff from the pile on the floor courtsey of some training exercise to our respective lockers, we had an extra five to ten minutes for our lunch break.

Spaghetti bolognese with meatballs, some grilled chicken breast, mash potatoes and a lettuce salad was for dinner. Although it has been somewhat of a staple meal for us, it never got old mainly because we were constantly hungry.

The chefs in the camp knew what they were doing. The food wasn't five-stars, but still pretty damn good. At least it was some compensation for our strict regime.

Someone slid into the bench opposite me. "Hey, where were you?"asked Tanner. I looked up to see who it was.

"Seeing Fullerman," Rodgers replied sullenly, "I've got two days off. Gotta attend my family's funeral and all. Packing after lunch,"

We ate awkwardly, not trusting our mouths to say the right words. I broke the ice, "It took you over and hour to see Fullerman for just that?"

"Saw a psychiatrist as well, in case I ever wanted to jump off a building," he grunted even more sullenly.

"Well on the bright side, you missed out on having to do sit-ups while holding bricks," said Webb cheerfully.

Rodgers whirled around to face him, "Don't you think I would rather just do that? If I was, my mother and sister would be still alive and my little bro wouldn't be in a vegetative state!" His voice was so loud that the entire mess hall went silent.

Webb was stunned and gaped, totally at a loss for words. Everyone from other tables turned to see what the commotion was about. I shot them death glares to mind their own business.

A few of them turned back when they saw me, either in understanding or in sheer awkwardness. They turned around again when Rodgers continued in the same low threatening voice. "You have no idea what it feels like. You think I'm lucky to miss that little bit of training in return of the lives of two and a half family members? Hell, I don't even know if my bro's gonna be alright,"

"I wasn't— I didn't mean that," Webb stammered back. Admittedly, I would have done the same when confronted with such anger.

A large hand rested on Rodgers' shoulder firmly. "Recruit, come with me," Noel said. He must have snuck up on us during the commotion.

The spell on Rodgers broke and he paled, "Christ. I'm so sorry, I just lost it," he quickly apologized as Noel lead him towards the door. Webb nodded in return, accepting it.

It was a relief that the little 'outburst' was over. Never nice to be near someone who was shouting and radiating anger, misdirected or not.

"Well on the bright side, he'll have some time to cool off and visit his brother," Tanner said, trying to lighten the mood.

I let my pessimistic side take over, "Not such a bright side when you're in a situation where you get to do it,"

* * *

Later that day, drama occurred between a Robert 'smartass' Littman and Thorpe.

Apparently, Thorpe had punished Littman for bitching about how pointless his training was and Littman refused to comply even when Hamilton gave the order which was technically illegal since Hamilton was only our leader in field exercises but nobody bothered to point that out.

So now, a dramatic Littman was waving his arms like a monkey and blabbering almost incoherently about human rights. It was quite funny to the rest of us until Thorpe had enough and sucker punched Littman who collapsed on the ground, possibly out cold.

As someone from first squad went forward to carry Littman to the infirmary, Littman pounced on Thorpe and proceeded to rain punches and kicks in retaliation. But it was pretty obvious that the fight was pretty much one sided, in Thorpe's favor.

Thorpe reached and pulled Littman's legs from under him. He returned the favor by unleashing his full wrath on Littman—punching, kicking, swearing, headbutting almost everything you can think of.

In about thirty seconds, Littman was reduced to a quivering mound of pulverized flesh. Amazingly when he was picked up and being sent to the infirmary, he managed to yell "You'll hear from my attorney!"

Needless to say, he got kicked in the balls by a not too happy drill instructor.

"Anyone else?" asked Thorpe. It would be befitting add smoke clouds pouring out of his ears. We shuffled back to place nervously hoping—no, not hoping, we were praying that we wouldn't get extra punishment or something due to Littman's antics.

"Thought so as well," Thorpe growled.

* * *

The next day Littman got kicked out of boot camp rather unceremoniously making my squad less two members. One temporarily at any rate.

"I wonder who's next," I sighed as I walked to a shady spot under some trees. After all, it was a Sunday and almost half of the day was training-free.

"Hope's Dickens," grunted Tanner as she settled down beside me.

I wasn't surprised, "That uppity idiot? The flat faced guy who thinks he's the boss of every one? The—"

"Yeah that's the one, though a simple son of a bitch would be perfect," said Tanner, breaking me off from my rant. I was surprised, Tanner hardly ever swore.

"So you hate him enough to call him names?"

"Other than the fact that he's an uppity idiot and a flat faced guy who thinks he's the boss of every one?" She echoed me.

"No seriously, why do you hate him so much?" I asked, curiously getting the better of me.

She grimaced, "He keeps hitting on me,"

"I'm not surprised," I managed to say with a straight face.

She glared at me, "He doesn't go like 'Hey, wanna go to the movies with me?' He goes like 'Hey, wanna go and get laid with me?' Do you know how annoying it is?"

I coughed to cover up my chuckling. She gave me a death glare, "You think this is funny don't you?"

I went on the defensive, "I'm no good with girl talk. If you want some of my advice, go kick him in the balls next time tries to hit on you,"

"I'll get into trouble for that,"

"Fraternizing in boot camp is illegal, he'll be in more trouble than you,"

"Are you not fraternizing with me then?"

"He fraternizes to get laid, my fraternizing is to build a solid relationship with a member of the same squad,"

She raised an eyebrow, "Is that all?"

"Uh yea. I'm done with my speech," I replied awkwardly.

"So we're friends,"

"With benefits," I dodged a punch as I said that with a grin.

"Nothing more," she insisted.

"Are you sure?" I joked further while grabbing hold of her punching fist.

"One more word and I'm going to kick you in the balls,"

"You'll get into trouble for that," I replied warily.

"And you'll get into more trouble for fraternizing with me," she echoed my previous statement.

"Oh har har, steal my lines twice eh?"

"Got a problem with that?"

I was about to dish out a witty retort which would inevitably include swear words when I noticed that the huge digital clock hanging above the camp office.

Tanner noticed the time as well, "Oh shit," she said. And I couldn't agree any further. My break time was up, and three minutes have passed from the time I'm supposed to report in.

"Don't wait for me," Tanner said.

"Never crossed my mind" I replied as I sprinted for all I was worth to the field where our training would be held next.


End file.
